Changes
by WOWZAcoolBEANS
Summary: There was a girl who he had once had a crush on; it was nothing huge, but it made Finnick smile every time that Annie did. Circumstances and personalities changed, but the feelngs that he had for her never would, despite everything. Finnick/Annie.


**Title:** Changes

**Synopsis:** There was a girl who he had once had a crush on; it was nothing huge, but it made Finnick smile every time that Annie did. Things changed and both of them ended up throwing their lives into the arena, both of them worse for the wear. The changes in a person does not reflect a change in another's love, and Finnick can only watch as the one that he loves loses her sanity. Finnick/Annie.

**Rating: **K+

**A/N**: I wrote this a while ago, and sort of abandoned it in the middle. I was bored tonight, so I finished it up and decided to post it, even though it's probably not the best thing that I've ever written. Oh well. The ending is sort of rushed and sort of… absolutely terrible. But crap happens.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Hunger Games because if I did, there would be a lot more Finnick and a lot less of… Everyone else.

--

Before the Hunger Games, Annie was just a normal girl. When we went to school I would see her, and I had always kept an eye out for her. Though not the most beautiful girl in school or anything, Annie had something just seemed to catch my eye, and I had no idea why. When I left for the Hunger Games I was surprised to see her as one of the visitors who came to bid me farewell.

Her words were not spectacular. There was nothing about this girl that stood out especially. Annie was just Annie; there was nothing more to her, no secret side full of a second life of sex or scandal. Her entire being was just composed of being Annie; there was nothing to hide. And in her words, I could feel that.

As she walked in, her face was red; apparently it was not entirely her idea to visit. "F-Finnick." She stuttered and though my insides were the consistency of sloshing water at that moment from nerves and shock, I couldn't help but to let a small smile on my face.

"Hello Annie." My voice was just a bit teasing; I couldn't help it. The few times that I was able to get a word in with this girl I was forced to tease her just a bit. She was just too cute not to. "This will probably be the last time we ever speak, so get it all out now." My voice cracked just a little as I spoke, ruining the friendly and charismatic demeanor that I held. The truth was that the nerves were getting to me and I was truly frightened that this would be the last time that I spoke to Annie; to anyone. Facing death, I felt like it was my right to have a moment of happiness with the girl whom I had obsessed over for so long, but even now I felt as if I would just break down and not see her smile ever again.

But then, her reaction surprised me. "No!" Her words came too quickly, and I found myself able to breathe a bit better once again. Backtracking, she stuttered just a bit as she spoke. "I-it's just that I-I-I, that we a-all want you t-t-to come home, Finnick-k-k. You can-n't-t die." One look at Annie's face and just listening to her stuttering voice was almost too much for me to take. Without thought I quickly bounded across the room and took the girl into my arms. For a moment I let myself just hold her, not caring about anything. Her skin was warm and smooth and I allowed myself to feel in wonder. The hair that I had always treasured was finally reachable and was just as soft as I had always imagined it to be. This was the first time that I was this close to a girl outside of my small family; I knew that I had always wanted it to be her, and even if I were to die, at least I could die knowing that I had at least this much in my fourteen years. As I pressed her harder into myself I realized for the first time just how small she was; there was barely anything to her. And then I realized that I could change that.

If I were to win the Hunger Games, if by some miracle I was able to defeat the rest of those hungry, tired and beaten down children such as myself, I would be able to help this girl. The winner's home got food for a year, and even after that I would have more than enough money to share with her, and everyone else for that matter. If I were to win the Hunger Games then I would be able to help all of those people who needed help the most.

"Don't worry Annie. I'll come back." Not wanting to, but knowing that time was running short, I let her lose, though I kept a slight grip around her waist. "Just for you." I said smiling, and in return she gave me an angelic smile that would become some of my only strength during those hellish days of the Hunger Games.

But as I played, I continued to believe that Annie was there waiting for me and that once I returned I would be able to smile and hand her a huge bag of candy and tell her 'I told you so.' So each person that I brutally murdered burdened my conscious less and less and each splatter of blood was a little less painful to see, because through all of the ugliness of the world, I knew that there was a beautiful smile awaiting me.

**One Year Later**

I had not ever believed that I would be standing in this room again. The Hunger Games were supposed to be a nightmare that had ended for me; a dream that I was destined to wake up from. It was not supposed to be a reoccurring experience, and the continuation should not be worse than the beginning.

From the moment that her name was called, everything just shattered.

Everything that I had ever known was gone; gone was the smiling face, gone was the love that I had known. In just that split second hers, and my entire worlds exploded into thousands of small pieces that would never be put back together. If I had ever believed that there was a god, any lingering feelings were gone. If there was truly a force up above then they would not have caused such a beautiful flower to wilt so quickly.

As I watched her sob on the couch during our goodbye I felt powerless. This was not a situation where I could put my trident in hand and send it through my problems. Slowly I walked over to her and tried to do what I could to reassure her. "It will be fine," I said not truly believing that my words were true. Though not as fragile as before, she was still weak. Annie was still just a child; there was no way that she could kill as I did. "You'll come back home soon enough and then things will be back to what they were before." My hand found its way to her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. There was nothing to say, and there was nothing that I could do. From that moment I knew that the person who I loved was dead as the Hunger Games had killed so many. This time the casualty of the Hunger Games was personal; killing the soul of the one thing in my pathetic life that I really did care about. "Annie, I love you." I whispered as bent down and my lips met with hers. Though somewhat reluctant at first, after a moment her lips opened and the world was ours again for just a moment, until the Peacemakers were pulling me off of the couch next to her. Kicking and shouting, I tried to let them let go of me, but I knew that no matter what I did, Annie would be going. "Annie!" I yelled as they dragged me out of the door. "I love-" The slamming noise of the door cut me off from her, from my world.

The next weeks were torture. Watching the screen with wide eyes praying that the next morning when I went to sleep Annie's face would still appear. And as if by some miracle, it did. I sponsored her as much as I could. Doing whatever I could to help, to send her a reminder of home, whether it be some bread, or medicine when she needed it. The price didn't bother me, though it did my mother a bit, but at this point it didn't matter. The only thing I cared about was seeing Annie, my beautiful Annie, home safe and sound.

Exact names and dates escape me now. It was highlighted as a special, as something brilliant to see, but I knew that it was the end. Standing next to her was the other boy from our district. As much as I wished that he could come home safe as well, I knew that if Annie was to survive, he would not. His death was something that I had braced myself for; apparently Annie had not. When he stood next to her and had his head brutally slashed off in a way to make the audience squirm with displeasure, the change in her appearance, the way that she shrieked… It was over. Never again would she be the thirteen year-old girl who had baked a cake for my return with the last of her money. Nor would she be the fourteen year-old girl who snuck out with me to kiss a bit beneath the stars.

No, that Annie was dead, and would never return from the hell known as the Hunger Games.

**Nine Years Later**

Despite everything, I still love her. Each morning I check in on her house, properly positioned by mine, and make sure that she is alright. I see to it that she eats, she sleeps, she shops, she does everything that a normal person would do. And despite the few times that I've heard her screaming during the night and the other times that I've come into her house to see her holding a knife to her own throat, things have been fine.

Though the wounds that the Games have inflicted on her will forever be painful, they are no longer fresh, and it almost seems like she is able to live just a little again. I have tried to move on, knowing that I will never have a life with Annie now. She didn't want it; I wasn't going to force her. So instead I threw myself into meaningless relationships as soon as Annie seemed stable enough to live. At sixteen I was dating countless Capitol women who threw themselves at me. For a long time I had realized that I was attractive, but it still astounded me how these people could truly be so shallow. Each one brought expensive gifts bigger than the last and their only goal was to outshine the others so they may feel a few moments of my affection. Being somewhat of a broken hearted fool, I indulged them, but not for long. Soon a thought of Annie would enter my mind and then it would be over. Done with one girl, onto the next. Never satisfied, never happy.

Things, all things considered, were going pretty well until they announced the Quarter Quell. Suddenly things no longer seemed hopeful. I knew that I would volunteer if I wasn't picked. Out of most of the victors I was in the best shape and had the greatest chance of making it out alive. My only worry, however, was the women. With a small pool to pick from, it was my concern that they would force Annie back into the ring and remove what little sanity that she had left.

For six months I waited, training and preparing myself for what was to come. People who wanted my help in a rebellion contacted me; they wanted me to save the lives of the District 12 victors over my own for the sake of humanity. I obliged. There was no real reason for me to live anymore, and if my sacrifices meant that there would be a better life, without the Hunger Games, for people elsewhere, then I didn't mind. So it was settled; I trained, for no matter what, I would be in the Hunger Games. Mags told me that she would volunteer as well, for the females. It both broke my heart and made me glad. Mags was an old woman; smart, but fragile. She would not last very long in the arena at age eighty, but at least I would have the company of someone who I loved.

When the time came for the small reaping, Mags volunteered. I was in as well. It would all happen again.

This time, Annie did not visit me before I left. Instead I saw her face in the crowd as the train pulled away. An unruly tear trickled down my face as I saw a tear trickle down hers. There was a chance that I would never see her again; that I may not come back, and then that girl would have nothing, no one to help her when she needs it.

The platform grows smaller and smaller in the distance as the train moves, but yet I stare out the window for just a bit longer. In a few hours I would have to put on a brave face for the world, but now I let myself drown in sorrow for just a minute.

I stepped away from the window and retired to my room, thoughts of Annie rushing through my mind. There were plans already; I was to help the kids who had won last year and help instigate a rebellion. I knew that, and I also knew that doing that may cost me my life. But there was just a flicker of hope deep within my chest, hoping that I may be allowed to return home and see Annie's face as it was before either of us had been exposed to the Hunger Games. Then again, that sort of thing was unlikely.

Things had changed for the both of us.

_Fin_


End file.
